


Revenge is a kind of wild justice.

by LadyLokianna



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Introspective John, Rage, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10042013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLokianna/pseuds/LadyLokianna
Summary: I promised you, Helen. I know. I buried Baba Yaga in the depths of my being, and there would have to stay, but there are things that you can not simply forget or leave behind. With you I felt the joy of living like a normal person, I became a good person. I disowned and forgotten all evil, but it was evil to find and reach me.





	

Blood has a disgusting taste.  
He feels that viscous and metallic taste liquid in his mouth and spits it out in disgust, worthy icing on the cake of a period that defining horrendous is an understatement.  
 _It was all too good for someone like you, mate. Maybe you didn't deserve to be happy.  
_ _It's the karma,_ he repeats to himself _. I paid for all of the lives I've taken.  
_ Since that damned night in the hospital when he discovered the fate to which Helen was destined, his life has only worsened: it was a succession of gloomy days, in the grueling wait for her inevitable end.  
 _You thought you could throw it all behind your back and start from scratch, huh?  
_ _What an idiot.  
_ He turns on his back, feeling a sort of a electric shock throughout the whole body -pain or adrenaline?- and looks around with blurred view because of the hit that he received -from behind, as only cowards knows do - and sees Daisy at the opposite side of the room.  
Daisy, poor creature. Innocent victim of an arrogant kid with no balls.  
 _They've taken away from me even her, Helen_. She's gone, along with the hope of a new life, a little comfort after so much pain.  
Helen ... his dear, beloved Helen. The woman for whom he had abandoned his old life and to whom he had promised that never, under any circumstances he would go back into that hell.  
 _I promised you, Helen. I know. I buried Baba Yaga in the depths of my being, and there would have to stay, but there are things that you can not simply forget or leave behind. With you I felt the joy of living like a normal person, I became a good person. I disowned and forgotten all evil, but it was evil to find and reach me.  
_ A sour taste that makes its way directly from the stomach join the taste of blood he felt before, and at that moment something makes its way in him: just a thought.  
Revenge.  
A burning desire, something that makes its way into his flesh like fire in an brushwood.  
It seems to him to see Helen beside him, shaking his head disapprovingly, and reluctantly ignores her.  
 _I tried to be a good person, really, and I'm grateful for the time spent with you. I was a devoted husband, I loved you so much. I was a good person, even if briefly. And good people deserves good things in return, but most of the time they receive just shit. So, Helen, I think sometimes this excessive kindness does not bring you any good, only so much undeserved shit and so i'm done with it. Enough with being a good person.  
_ _Josef tear off from me the last good thing in my life, and he will pay for what he did to us._

_...sì vendetta, tremenda vendetta_  
_Di quest'anima è solo desio..._  
_Di punirti già l'ora s'affretta,_  
_Che fatale per te suonerà._  
_Come fulmin scagliato da Dio,  
_ _il buffone colpirti saprà.*_

Suddenly recalls a piece listened time before at the Theatre, during The Rigoletto -Helen really loved the Opera-  and laughs uncontrollably, ignoring the ghostly echo that comes in reply, in the empty house.  
Deep in his heart, he knows what he must do.

**Author's Note:**

> I've wrote this one shot in Italian for first, then I've translated it by myself. I hope there aren't too much errors here.   
> Since Rigoletto is an Italian opera, here's the translation of the piece that John recalls from his memory.  
> *Yes, revenge, terrible revenge/ is all that my heart desires./ The hour of your punishment hastens on,/ that hour which will be your last./ Like a thunderbolt from the hand of God,/ the jester’s revenge shall strike you down.  
> Hope you enjoy it, bye!


End file.
